The Balloon Moon Poem

I’m training my balloon
To fly to the moon.
It’s so fuzzy and round
And profound
And bound never to pound the ground on a mound, like
So it won’t make a sound like a hound in a pound.

My balloon is shy, but is flying high into the sky and
will defy
Gravity as it says ‘goodbye’, so don’t deny my
Balloon’s ability to fly high, like this guy who was
wearing a tie did,
For he said a lie and I used a pie made of rye to
cream his thigh
And made him cry as it dyed his pants yellow.
I let out a sigh for my balloon won’t die until
It reaches the moon at noon, in the sky.

My balloon’s almost to the moon, where it will meet
the dish and the spoon.
It will get there soon, hopefully by noon.
So tune in you silly buffoon and watch my balloon
Land in a sand dune on the moon like
A cartoon in the middle of a typhoon.

This landing by my balloon so yellow
Will make the world mellow as it bellows ‘hello’
As loud as a cello played by a fellow named
Punchinello, from Super Mario RPG.
So prepare a bowl of Jell-O for my balloon so yellow
As it makes the first ballooner landing on the stello

~This poem was dedicated to my fuzzy cute little yellow balloon.~